A few days ago I blogged about plans to professionalize my blog, and there were a lot of good comments. Thanks. As usual, I'm flattered by the company. Paul Easton's very funny. Further thoughts:
I accept the point of the commenters that a blog has a personal character and that for me to turn this into a Newspaper overnight would surely diminish it. I'm going to keep talking about my wife and my assimilation and my sexuality. Anyway, I couldn't make it a newspaper over night. My ambitions surrounding this blog seesaw. I looked at my Alexa numbers for the first time and felt grandiose. Then I get a day of 80 cents of ad revenue.
The core fact of this blog right now is that Some of it is real journalism, not just me bloviating, and I have made no money off it in 2-1/2 years (besides WRMEA picking some stuff up, thanks!); and I can't keep doing it. I thought I'd get an angel, hasn't happened. I pitched a story to one of my Mainstream Feemasters on McCain being surrounded by neocons and don't get an answer. These are the conditions of journalism today. Talking about this stuff here is a worthy enterprise, it goes without saying. But I can't support my family and mostly I need to quit wallowing in self-pity or I'll never grow up.
What to do? I'm going to put a donations can on the side. I'm going to have to do some real work. I'm going to tread water and keep on truckin and hope for a wave…
